Searching Souls
by 7littlesouls
Summary: AU. Slash, not wincest. When Dean and John find out the name of the last of the demon's special children, they know they have to save him, at the cost of ruining his apple-pie life. Because Sam's life, on papers, seems perfectly normal. But is it?
1. At the beginning

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural

WARNING: Mention of abuse, and possible graphic scenes in future chapters. Slash, but not Wincest, since Sam and Dean are not releted.

* * *

"Look, Bobby - I honestly don't like the idea either, but what other choice do we have?" John is sitting on an old wooden table, right across his friend. They look exhausted as if they had spent the entire night talking. Oh wait, _they have_.

"John, you've see the kid's face when Miller shot himself. He was-what? Six years younger than him? I bet he's playing the scene in his head over and over, even in his sleep-" Bobby looks irritated now "- and feeling guilty like hell…" John glares at him.

_Wow, if looks could kill, Bobby would totally be…_

"It's not his fucking fault, Bobby!" Dean's train of thoughts has been interrupted, _again_ " We can't save every fucking person on this fucking planet!"- John interrupted.

He's inserting a "fuck" every two words- he sounds pissed, but Dean knows it's actually his father's way to deal when he feels helpless.

The conversation is getting out of hand, Dean can tell by the way the two men keep interrupting each other; he himself is struggling to keep up.

One thing seems pretty clear to him, though: they are talking about him.

And, as far as Dean is concerned, there is just one thing to do in cases like this:

"What the fuck are you two yelling for?"- unexpectedly interrupt.

_Man, it always works so well it's almost unbelievable._ Two trained hunters, who could hear a bug flying a mile away during a hunt, didn't hear him approaching? And the floor even squeaks like a fucking mouse, what do they need to notice him-some trombones playing while he walks?

Whatever.

Apparently, an angrily yelled question works as well. Maybe even better.

_What the hell are you still talking to yourself for, Dean Winchester? Get a grip on yourself, for god's sake. _

"So?" Dean is tired -no, he's exhausted- from last night's hunt, and just wishes he could get some sleep.

_Yeah, right. Like if you could sleep after the kid fucking __**shot himself**__ right in front of you. _

_Anyway. What were we talking about? Oh, right: _

"I'm still waiting, here". His father and friend study him for a little while longer, as if trying to estimated how much of that yelling was caused by anger, and how much by fear and exhaustion.

John is the first one to look at him in the eyes "Dean."

When John's pause lasts more than 3 seconds, Dean raises an eyebrow in disbelief. What could possibly make his dad so hesitant?

John seems to shook himself from his insecurity, straightening himself up .

"Look, son: I understand you must be shaken by the events of last night, but we have just found another kid. The last one, to be more precise. He's the same age as the Miller kid, and he goes –or at least he's supposed to- to a school near here. I know you must be traumatized by what happened with Miller, but son, you couldn't have helped it…"

John is talking too fast again, his words are barely registering in Dean's mind, but he does hear his father last sentence, and if meant to be reassuring, it just makes Dean angrier than he already was.

"What is that supposed to mean? Of course it could have been helped! I should have seen the fucking gun in the first place!- John opens his mouth as to say something- And even if I might not have been able to stop him from getting the gun with his freaky mind-thingy he had going on, I should have found him sooner. You've heard him: he has been abused for the last three months, exactly two months after his powers had appeared. Which means long past the time we should have found him, long past the time we should have stopped his father from doing that to him. We might hunt monsters, dad, but we missed that one. We missed him, and Max paid the price." Dean is pissed. Really pissed. How could his father be so cold-hearted? The kid had been-

"He was never abused, Dean."

_Wait, what? _

"What?" Dean says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"He was never abused. We checked his medical records for any clue that something might have happened. Max was totally fine. Healthier than any of us. We even check his other family members' records and everything looks fine. A normal, apple-pie life. What happened was terrible, but it's not on you, son. The kid had issues that neither you nor us could have solved. But we can help _this_ kid. We can get him before the demon does. He's a few weeks younger that Max, so his powers might not have shown up, yet." John's words are followed by silence. Dean is still trying to make some kind of sense out of all that he had just been told, while Bobby just looks…resigned.

"Bobby?" Dean voice is soft, but Bobby's head shoots up at the whispered word, as if he has just realized where he is.

"Yeah, kid?" Bobby seems to try to put a smile on his face, but it comes out more like a grimace.

Dean just looks at him, and tilts his head a little. Bobby knows perfectly well what Dean wants to know, so there is no point in wasting breath.

"He's just a kid, Dean. And he doesn't know a thing about all this shit. No werewolves, or shape shifters, or freaky mind powers. He might be going through some rebellious stage, but in the end, he's living a safe, normal life. And the world is about to crash on him."

Dean waits patiently, he knows there is something more Bobby needs to say-"Your daddy, here" Bobby sounds annoyed, while he tilts his head in John's direction "thinks you should go pick him up tomorrow-" he glances at his watch and corrects "- _today_ to tell him what's gonna happen to him and that he needs to come with us" Bobby turns to look at John.

"If you say it like that, you make me sound like a cold-hearted bastard" John says.

"Well, that's because _you are_." Bobby is straightening himself up on the chair, as if ready for another argument.

So it's Dean turn to talk and try placate the two men:

"Ok. I'll do it."


	2. His name is Sam

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural

Warning in first chapter

_Hello again :) I know this chapter is pretty short, and nothing really happens, but I had a very busy day :( So at first I thought about not publishing it, but I remembered I had told one of the readers that I would have…plus, if I were the one reading, I would think that a short chapter is better than no chapter xD_

_So, here we go! Enjoy :D_

* * *

Dean's words seems to freeze the scene. For a good minute all three men just stay still in their positions.

"Thank you, son." John says, with the ghost of a smile on his worn out face. The hours spent arguing seems to finally catch up with both John and Bobby , but they don't make a move to go lie down or dismiss themselves to get some rest. They know this isn't over: the decision is made, but now comes the hard part.

"Alright – says Bobby sighing in resignation – I don't see what options we have. There's no way to make this sound anywhere close to sane for an outsider."

Dean reaches the nearest chair with two long steps, and sits.

"Yeah, well. He'll probably think I'm some crazy psycho. Maybe a serial killer." Dean tugs his lips up in a grimace. "I guess that we kinda are, though. Serial killers, I mean. Just in a different sense."

"Yeah well, that's a good example of how NOT to start your conversation." John looks at his son and makes eye contact. "But I know you won't, and I'm ready to bet that you're gonna tell us that we don't need to talk about this, and that you've got it".

"You know I'm not good at this. I'm more of an improvisation kinda guy." Dean hand moves to his head and ruffles his hair. "You guys should get some sleep, I know you haven't slept all night and I have no intention to drag you're sorry asses around, tomorrow."

"Like _you_ had any" John sighs and stands up "but you're right. You go get some sleep, too, Ace." He then looks at his son, when he feels the complaint starting to get out of Dean's mouth "and that's an order."

That makes up Dean's mind, and he stands up, glancing at Bobby.

Feeling eyes on him, the hunter looks up with a grunt.

"Alright, alright. I'm going." Dean smiles at hearing the following, annoyed mumbling coming from his old friend.

Just before disappearing in his room, Dean turns around to face the two older man:

"What's his name?"

"Whose name?" Says John, raising his eyebrows.

"The kid's. What's the kid's name?"

"Sam – John lowers his gaze – his name is Sam."

* * *

_Let me know what you think, and if there's something in my writing you think I should fix :D I'm not really used to write in English xD_


	3. A notsoperfect life

DISCALIMER: I don't own Supernatural

_Sorry for the delay, I was in Philly the past few days and my wireless connection wasn't working! VERY frustrating . _

_But, you know what they say: Better late, than never_

_Enjoy_

* * *

Dean is leaning on his beloved Impala, when Sam gets out of the door. He has been sitting there for over two hours now, not finding the nerve to knock on the door of the house in front of him.

_It's a nice house._ Dean thinks. _No, it's not just a house. It's a home. His home. _Sam_'s home. _

_And we're going to take that away from him._

So yeah, he _is_ putting off the moment in which he'll have to do just that.

_But we're doing this for him. We are protecting him._ Dean tells himself. And right when he finally pushes himself up, the door opens. It's too early, too sudden. He feels like he could have used a few more minute between the moment in which he found the resolution to stand up and the one in which he'll actually have to face the kid._ Sam._

Dean starts striding towards him, when he notices that Sam looks angry. No, he looks _furious_. Dean follows Sam's line of sight and notices a man.

_When did that guy get here? And more importantly, why didn't __**I**__ notice?_

Dean starts walking slightly on his left, hoping to do so unseen, so that he'll be able to hide out until he finds out more about this strange new figure.

_Sam seems to know him._ Dean reflects.

When he feels far enough from the two men, to not be seen but still be able to hear them talking, he stops behind a building's wall and concentrates on hearing the men's words.

"What the fuck?" Sam is very close to the man now, and he's face is flushed for the effort of not yelling out loud at the man.

_Why is he keeping his voice down?_ Dean's brain goes through all the things that could connect the weird guy and Sam in less than a minute.

_Drugs are probably the best guess, considering the way Sam clearly doesn't want to be seen with him._

"I fucking told you I don't meet people less than 5 blocks away. Where the fuck did you even get my address, anyway? Or my name, for that matter?" Now that he pays more attention, Dean hears a slight hint of fear in Sam's voice.

_This is gonna be harder than I thought. _

The hunter in him tells him to wait, to find out more about what is actually going on.

_If he's an addict, it's gonna be nearly impossible to convince him to leave._

Dean replays in his head the talk with John and Bobby and tries to think about something that might have indicated Sam had a drug problem._ Didn't dad say something about him not going to school? Damn it, I should have come here better prepared. _

"Matt followed you from school. And I need to see you today. Ok?" the man's voice is almost desperate, now. Pleading. "I can't wait any longer. I will pay you three times more than the usual. Just please-"

_Wait,_ he _will pay_ Sam_?_

_What in the world did you get yourself into, kid?_

Dean is now resolved to wait until he understands the most he can.

_Doubt little Sammy will be eager to share information. It is now, or never._

In the mean time, Sam has cut off the guy's pleas:

"Well that's just too bad, 'cause I am busy today." Dean notices that Sam has taken a step back.

"That's not true. I checked with the others and none of them has an appointment. So stop lying to me." The sudden change of tone and attitude coming from the guy shocks Dean.

_Who the hell is this guy? And why is Sam backing up, now?_

"Look, I have school, alright. I need to go or my father'll find out. I can see you tonight, around 7." The young hunter doesn't like the sadness and slight fear that are now the prevalent emotions in the kid's voice.

"And why should I care about your father? It's not like we don't know what is going on behind those closed doors. You don't fool us, kid. You are coming with me, and you're coming now." The man steps forward and grabs Sam's shoulder.

Dean doesn't fail to notice the grimace of pain that is now altering Sam's facial features. And then everything happens so quickly, everything falls down on Dean and he feels the heaviness of the realization that hits him. Because the man is now squeezing Sam's crotch.

"You fucking pervert, get away from him." There's no more waiting or hiding behind a wall for Dean.

_This guy leaves now or I'll beat him up until he passes out._

Deanis still struggling to understand how they didn't catch this. How could anyone not know this.

_How could I not think about it, when I heard them talking._

The guy throws a punch in Dean's direction, but the young hunter has not difficulties in avoiding it.

_You asked for it, buddy._

And that's all the thinking he needs to do, before hitting the guy hard enough to knock him out.

Dean leans down and puts two fingers on the guy's neck. He has done this many times, but he can't stop himself from making sure the guy's ok, even when he is in a hurry.

Like when he has to chase someone.

Like when he has to catch a freaking fast teenager.

Like now.

But right when he starts thinking that maybe he should just get the Impala, because _this kid is fast_ and he already had a minute head start, he notices Sam is slowing down.

And it's just a matter of seconds before he sees him collapsing on the ground.

* * *

_Reviews are__ very appreciated! :D_


	4. Pretty sure you'd punch me in the face

DISCALIMER: I don't own Supernatural

_Another very short chapter, but I feel like it didn't really fit neither in the previous nor will in the one that'll follow, so…_

* * *

"SAM!" Dean crouches besides him and checks on the kid. His pulse is strong - a little slow- but strong.

Dean gets a better hold on Sam's shoulders, and starts pushing himself up but _the kid's a whole lot heavier than it looks_ so he has to move slowly.

Despite his carefulness, a pained moan escapes from Sam's lips.

It is then, that Dean notices the bruises.

They would be covered completely by clothes, if it wasn't for the fact that in grabbing Sam's shoulders, Dean has accidentally unbuttoned the kid's shirt.

"Let's get you in the car and then we'll check on the damage, alright, kiddo?" The older man tries to calm himself, rather unsuccessfully.

The walk to the car is tiring and slow, but Dean doesn't stop once. He doesn't even readjust the kid's position in his arms, afraid to hurt him further than he already is.

_What happened to you, Sam?_

For some reason, Dean feels like it won't be easy to find out.

"I feel like you're not going to be the kind of person that likes to talk things over, Sammy." A soft smile appears on Dean's face, and his words are said with fondness. He is surprised by noticing the emotion in his tone, after all-

_I don't even know this kid._

_Maybe he's a spoiled little brat going through some rebellious stage, who likes to go out drinking, and getting in trouble. Getting into fights… _

_That's it. That's where those bruises come from. _

_Right?_

_That must be it._

When he finally gets to the car, Dean carefully eases down Sam on the back seat of the impala, managing somehow to not let him fall, not even during his struggle with the door handle.

_Ok, let's take a look at you, Sam. _

When a soft whine comes from the younger man, Dean entangles his finger in the kid's hair, and starts stroking it in a calming motion.

"That's it –relax, kiddo. It's not time to wake up yet." Dean's voice is barely above a whisper, it's meant to sooth the younger man, not wake him up.

_Pretty sure you'd punch me in the face, if I tried to check on you while you're conscious. _The young hunter smirks at the thought and finishes unbuttoning Sam's shirt.

* * *

_Reviews? *-*_


	5. Click

DISCALIMER: I don't own Supernatural

_I reread this chapter quite a few times, so let me know if there are some incoherencies or something isn't clear, because at the moment I wouldn't be able to notice any of that. _

_Enjoy _:D

* * *

Dean smirk quickly changes into a grimace, once he takes a look at Sam's chest.

The kid's torso is covered in bruises, cuts, and welts of all kinds. The damage is so extensive Dean wonders how Sam could do so much as _walk_, not to mention _run_.

_God, who did this to you, Sam?_

It's the first time since this ordeal has started, that Dean actually stops and_ looks _at the kid.

_A little hard not to notice the wounds._

But what really bothers Dean, is that he knows those are not the only signs that something's wrong with the kid.

His skin is way too pale, and he's too thin.

_The kid might be tall –and _Man_, is he tall- but he is _way _too thin to just have a fast metabolism. Looks like he has been starved for weeks._

Sam looks so frail, Dean's almost afraid to touch him. His hands move softly on the kid's skin, checking for damage.

Then, the young hunter looks up and stares at Sam's face for a few seconds.

_He looks so innocent, so young._

And seeing the dark circles under his eyes, Dean is back to wondering how it is possible that this went unnoticed.

The young hunter tenderly moves a lock of shaggy brown hair away from Sam's face -_he's beautiful- _and the bruise that the action uncovers brings the hunter back to reality.

Seems like Dean'll have to risk that punch.

He might have just enough time to take care of the kid's injuries, before Sam wakes up, but he doubts his father will be able to find out what exactly happened to the kid.

John's great at what he does, but even him doesn't have all the answers, Dean knows that very well.

Well, John and Bobby will have to figure something out, because-

_We need to protect him._

Dean's protective instincts are in overdrive for some reason. He barely knows anything about this kid, and what happened to him feels already too much as a personal issue for the young hunter. There is something about Sam, something that has nothing to do with the fact that he's the last connection to his mom's killer.

Sure, Dean wants to find the son of a bitch and make it pay, but not at the cost of Sam's life.

_Nor his well-being. _Dean finds himself thinking.

While reflecting, Dean has already moved Sam, so that he can lie on the back seat of his baby as comfortably as possible; he has closed the door, started his beloved Impala and started driving to the nearest motel.

He catches a glimpse of his image in the review mirror –_Man, I need a shower_- and doesn't like what he sees. His façade has crumbled, finding out about Sam. He doesn't look much as the hardcore hunter he usually is during hunts. His green eyes are slightly watery –_must be the lack of sleep_- and dirty brown hair all messy, and –well, _dirty_.

_Doesn't matter, now. Doubt Sam will care about appearances any time soon. _

Found a motel, he gets out, quickly glancing at the inside of the car to make sure Sam's still unconscious, and goes to check them in. Exchanges two words with the clerk -barely paying attention- and starts walking back to his car, as soon as the motel room's keys touch his hand.

He opens the door and picks Sam up, hoping , with his quick motions, not to attract any attention to himself.

Dean struggles with the door lock, but after a few seconds he can gratefully lay the kid on one of the two queens beds.

The further one from the door, of course.

_Don't worry Sam, nothing is bad is gonna happened to you. _

Dean is ready to protect this kid from anything, and it's a whole new feeling for him. Sure, he's always had his dad, but this is different.

_Sam is different._

The young hunter shrugs off his jacket and throws it on his bed, impatient to take care of Sam's injuries.

Sam is still unconscious -_Thank God for small favors_- and Dean decides it's safe enough to make a quick run for the car to get the first aid kit.

When Dean gets back, Sam has started moving slightly, emitting soft moans now and then.

_Please, please don't wake up just yet._

Dean's hands move fast, but carefully, in cleaning Sam's wounds. Something tells him he won't be allowed to touch them for a pretty long while, once the kid's awake.

He has just started putting things away, when Sam's eyes starts moving beneath his eyelids.

Oblivious to the fact, the young hunter doesn't stop what he's doing.

_Click_

The sound is familiar, and Dean expected it from closing the first aid kit, but is taken off guard when he hears something else.

The sound of someone franticly wrestling with his blankets.

The sound of Sam, panicking.

* * *

_Constructive criticism really helps me make the story better, and improve my writing; I really appreciate it!_

_I was advised to insert some descriptions, and I tried to do my best to start doing so; let me know if it feels like they don't really fit in there :)_

_In the next chapter, Sam__ will be awake -kinda xD :D :D_


	6. You can't squeeze the pain away

DISCALIMER: I don't own Supernatural

_So -I know this story is proceeding kinda slowly, but I don't love stories that give everything away right away, _and_ I rather post _often_ relatively short chapters, than _sparingly _very long ones_ :D _I apologize if you don't agree :P _

_Also, if I won't post anything in the next few days it'll be because I'm moving, and we won't have an internet connection for a few days…_ :(

* * *

_Nonononononono No, Sam!_

"Sam! Calm down, kiddo. Calm down, you're gonna hurt yourself." Dean has pulled the extremely disoriented and distressed teenager's head to his chest, trying to stop his frantic movements, and preventing him from opening the recently-bandaged wounds.

Sam's struggle seems to quiet down, from exhaustion more than anything.

Dean knows better than to think the kid is already ready to trust the hunter not to hurt him.

They stay in the same position for a few seconds, Sam leaning on Dean, and Dean stroking his hair very slowly.

"Sam?" Dean's voice is hesitant, and he speaks like if talking to a frightened animal.

Sam doesn't respond, but brings his hands to the head, and presses them on both sides, like if trying to squeeze the pain out of his body.

"Sam? C'mon, kid" Dean gently tries to pull Sam's hands away from his head "you're gonna hurt yourself."

Sam's only reply is a pained whine.

"It's ok, Sam. You hit you head pretty hard, you probably have a slight concussion. But you're safe, now."

The younger man seems to suddenly notice Dean's presence, and quickly pulls away from his chest, the abrupt movement causing his pain to reach a whole new level. He puts more effort in trying to squeeze the pain away.

_If he presses a little harder, he'll break his own skull. _

"I'll go get you some pain killers, how does that sound?" Not really expecting an answer, Dean slowly stands up and starts looking for the pills.

Then he gets up and as fast as he can returns to the bed Sam's sitting on, and hands him the medicine and a glass of water.

Sam, though, makes no move to accept either.

_He's gonna pass out from exhaustion __if he keeps this up._

And, in fact, Sam's hands are now resting on his lap, and he seems to not even have the energy to sit straight.

"Sam? Maybe you should just try to get some sleep" Sam doesn't move, but Dean can see his muscles tensing.

"I don't want to sleep"

Dean is taken off guard at hearing Sam's response, having expected none.

_He sounds so young._

_And in pain._

The young hunter shakes off the surprise, and tries again.

"Ok. Well, you should take these pills. Your head must he hurting." Dean keeps his voice low and soft, not demanding.

_But he really needs his sleep, and he is straining himself. _

_And –_

"I know you don't trust me, Sam. But I'm not gonna hurt you"

Dean can't offer much more than these repetitive reassurances –_I sound like a broken record_- and suddenly feels compelled to get closer to the kid, offer some sort of physical comfort.

He doesn't stop to think about it -it just feels like the right thing to do- and steps forward.

It takes him less than a second to realize his mistake, but he knows it's too late to step back when a panicked look appears on Sam's face.

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Reviews? *-*


	7. Don't shut me out, kid

DISCALIMER: I don't own Supernatural

_I started feeling very guilty when I realized I hadn't updated in a while, so I decided to post this tonight, knowing I probably won't have time tomorrow. I apologize for the mistakes__, hopefully you'll still be able to enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :D_

* * *

Sam's breath is now too fast and short, and Dean knows the kid is hyperventilating.

"Ok, Sam: I won't touch you. I'm stepping back, see?" The young hunter attempts to calm the scared teen, but without much success.

Sam brings an hand to his chest, and slightly bends down, as if in pain.

"Sam, you really need to calm down, you're having a panic attack. You have to take deep breaths, ok?" The kid's condition seems to only get worse, and his hand is now gripping the front of his shirt.

"Sam. Listen to me. Try to breathe with me, ok?" Dean keeps distance, and takes deep breaths. His hands are up, in an attempt to not cover his chest and its motions.

_Come on, kid. See? Not even coming close._

Sam's breathing's still too rapid.

_Oh, well. This can't get much worse._

With two long steps, Dean reaches the bed Sam's sitting on, and grabs one of his hands, bringing it to his own chest. Hopefully the teen will try to imitate the rhythm of his breathing.

He takes it as an encouragement, when two hazel, watery eyes look at him for a second.

But the moment's over way too quickly, and long bangs of brown hair come down to hide the kid's eyes, as Sam tilts his head forward.

_Don't shut me out, kid._

"Sam, c'mon. In, and out. Nice and slow. You're ok, kid. C'mon."

When after a few seconds Sam is still struggling, Dean realizes they are not getting anywhere.

"Ok, Sam. You have several bruised ribs, and some might even be broken. You are hyperventilating and might puncture a lung, if we don't so do something now. So I'm gonna give you these pills" Dean opens his hand to show Sam the tablets. The teens weakly shakes his head.

"It's ok, Sam. I know you're scared but you'll have to swallow them for me, ok? You're gonna be fine."

Dean keeps his hold on Sam's hand, and pulls the kid towards himself. When the teen give no sign of collaboration, the young hunter lets go of Sam's hand in favor to grabbing his chin. He puts his other hand on Sam's back and keeps him from trying to escape.

_Not that he'd have the energy to do so, anyways._

"C'mon Sam. Open your mouth." Not really waiting for a response, and knowing by the look of determination on Sam's face the he'd never give in without fighting, Dean forces his mouth open and tilts the kid's head back. He lets the pills fall into Sam's mouth and then covers it with his hand.

"Sam, you gotta swallow, kid." Sam's still struggling to breathe and Dean knows it won't be able to resist much longer, considering the very small about of air he can get to his lungs just from his nose.

"Come on, Sam. You're just making it worse" Dean whispers more to himself than to the teen.

He starts stroking the kid's throat, knowing that the stimulation will induce him to swallow.

Finally, Sam gives up and gulps down the pills. His breath is still laborious, but Dean knows it'll get better soon.

"You're soon gonna feel sleepy, Sam. And it's ok; between the meds and the energy you've lost because of the stress, it's perfectly normal. Just let go, you'll feel better when you wake up. The pills should help you with your headache, too." Dean knows he's just rambling, and Sam probably couldn't care less at the moment.

Then, their eyes meet, and the young hunter hopes Sam will be able to see beyond his green irises. He hopes his eyes will convey everything he tried to put into words: Sam is safe with Dean. After all, eyes are supposed to be the window to the soul, right?

_This whole thing definitely wasn't a good start. Way to not making him think I'm gonna hurt him._

The young hunter feels like crap at the idea of having had to force Sam to do anything, and even worse at the thought of how scared the kid must have been. But when he looks at the teen again, now asleep in his arms, he feels a little better.

_At least he'll get some rest, and hopefully his head won't hurt as much__, when he wakes up again._

Dean sighs and lays Sam on the bed, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. He covers him with a blanket and then stands up.

He has a phone call to make.

* * *

_Please__, review! Knowing that people are reading encourages me to keep writing, and update as frequently as I can :D_


	8. Complications

DISCALIMER: I don't own Supernatural

_I don't like this chapter. Like- _Really_ don't like it. It's one of those chapters in which nothing interesting really happens, especially if you're me and you already knew what was going on. If that makes any sense. But anyway, it had to be done. _

_Hopefully, it'll make some things a little bit clearer for you guys :D_

* * *

_Ok. __Call dad._

Dean sits on his bed, still keeping an eye on Sam. He doubts the kid'll wake up anytime soon, though.

He brings the phone to his ear, and leans forward until he can rest his elbows on his knees.

_C'monc'monc'mon. Dad, pick up the phone. I really need a shower._

"Oh, come _on." _

"Come on what, Dean?" Dean straightens himself up, surprised by hearing his father's voice.

"Oh, hey dad. Just didn't think you'd picked the phone up, yet. Anyway. I found Sam"

Silence follows Dean's words. It's just for a heartbeat, but Dean notices it.

"So how…is he ok, Dean?" John's tone is sad, with a slight hint of pity coloring it. The younger hunter frowns, and he is now the one pausing for a moment.

"Why shouldn't he be?"

Silence again.

"Dean. How is he?" Dean recognizes John demanding tone. He knows his dad hates it, when his son answers with another question.

"Not so great, dad. He has a few broken ribs, and the ones that aren't broken are bruised. Cuts, lacerations, bruises, welts all over his chest, and on his back. He's in a pretty bad shape. He started running when I first approached him, and then collapsed on the ground. He hit his head pretty hard, I think he might have a slight concussion. When he woke up he panicked, and when I couldn't calm him down I had to make him swallow some pain killers. He's sleeping, now." Finishing his report, Dean pauses waiting for a response from John, and when he doesn't get it after a few seconds, he decides he's waited long enough.

"Dad, do you know what happened to him?"

_I should tell him about the creepy guy, but then he'll never answer my question._

_Let's solve one mystery at a time._

"We don't know for sure, Dean." _What kind of answer is that?_

"Ok, what do you _think_ happened to him, then." Dean hates it, when his father is so hesitant in giving him the answers he wants.

"Just spill, dad. I'm not dropping the subject anytime soon." _What the hell's going on with this kid?_

"Ok, Dean. Just watch the attitude, alright?" John tone is way softer than his words: he knows Dean can't stand not knowing what's going on.

"Bobby talked to a friends of his, a psychic. Basically, she told him that some _special _people can sometimes be connected to each other. Like, if they have something in common." This time, John's pause is to give his son time to process what he's just been told, and possibly understand what his father's getting to.

"Like the Yellow Eye Demon's special children could have?" The younger hunter realizes he's _probably_ not gonna like what his dad has to say.

"Exactly like that." Dean is just about ready to open his mouth and tell his dad to _just get to the point already, _but John precedes him. "Seems like these people might end up sharing emotions, and some sort of _memories _without even realizing it. It's like having reminiscences of things that never actually happened to you, but that did happen to the person you have a "connection" with."

_Oh, I'm _definitely_ not gonna like this._

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Dean?" _Oh, come _on_. Are you really making me say it, just so _you_ don't have to, dad?_

"Well, dad. It's be much easier for me to understand all this, if you'd start to actually _tell_ me something, and stopped _implying _everything." The young hunter doesn't even put much energy into the statement -_don't wanna start an argument right now-_ and he's sure his dad can perceive from his tone that he's just too worn out to keep this up for long.

In fact, John doesn't even comment on his son's attitude.

"Just, please. Dad. What's going on?"

"Ok, son. We think the Miller's kid was actually just sharing memories and feeling of the abuse with another one of the special children." Dean can hear muffled sounds coming from the other end of the phone, someone's saying something to John. _Must be Bobby._

" And Sam is the last one of the special children." The realizations comes to Dean, like a wave crashing on the rocks. You can practically see it coming, but every time, the force of the impact takes you off guard.

"Yes, he is."

"That's where the bruises come from?" Dean realizes the phrase came out more as a question than a statement.

"We believe so, Dean."

Dean tiredly passes a hand on his face, as if he could wipe away the weariness and the stress with the motion.

"Ok." _Oh no, this is _so_ far from_ _ok_. "Ok. I'm gonna take a shower. I'll call you once I'll have had a few words with Sam."

"Ok, son. Get some sleep, the kid's probably gonna be out for a few more hours, and you need your strength. This has gotten more complicated than planned."

"Tell me about it. Bye, dad."

"Bye, Dean"

Right now –maybe it's the stress, maybe it's the exhaustion- Dean can barely formulate any thoughts. There's one word, though, that he can't stop repeating to himself:

_**Shit**_

* * *

_Do you understand what's going on? _

_I'll try to post the next chapter by tomorrow night :) I can't tell you what's gonna happen exactly, 'cause I don't know yet, but I can promise you, I'll go back to the boys *-* :P_


End file.
